


to stop a king

by orphan_account



Category: Thor (Movies)
Genre: Feelings, Gen, Prison, lots of feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-21
Updated: 2013-01-21
Packaged: 2017-11-26 06:54:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 388
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/647789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>How can one traitor reprimand another?</p>
            </blockquote>





	to stop a king

His breathing shallow. Shackles made of iron and air thick with dust have not done him well. The years have not been kind to him. If she had her way, he would have never seen those years. 

To stop a king, you have to kill him. You must rip his body limb from bloody limb. You must burn the pieces. You must scatter the ashes in every single corner of the nine realms. You must do it in front of the people. Make him an example to all. Never allow anyone to doubt what a kingslayer does.

“How can one traitor reprimand another?” His voice is thick. The six words send him into a dizzying coughing fit. It’s still there though. That silver tongue is well at work. Those little knives were no help to him. The staff he was said to wield in the battle of New York (the words are foreign on her tongue) was no use to him. The Cask of Ancient Winters, the Tesseract, nothing but blunted child’s swords. That blasted tongue of his was the only real weapon he ever used.

She should have ripped it out a long time ago.

“I was never a traitor.” She whispers. 

This practically sends him into a fit. It starts as a chuckle, evolving, blooming into a harsh cold laughter that rings off every wall. It sends chills from her spine to her toes. She instinctively reaches for her sword. (It’s new. Her name carved in the hilt. A gift from the king that feels both ice cold and burning hot in this blasted dungeon.) A ruby as red as blood catches the dim light of the torch. It bounces across the bars and walls. 

For a second, it bathes his hollow face. His cheekbones make the shadows dance across his face. Green eyes, illuminated for the first time in ages. 

“You are a traitor in every sense of the word, dearest. It was you who orchestrated that ridiculous scheme to bring your dearest Thor back. Your own brother open the gate for you and my brother’s pathetic friends. You went against my direct orders. I was your king.” 

“You were a puppet blinded by your own ambition.” She replies softly. 

“ _I was a king!_ ”

“You were never a king, Loki. You were never even close.”

**Author's Note:**

> blah, blah, blah. i hate exams.


End file.
